Maybe Prongs Had A Point
by PJ XD
Summary: Twenty year old Remus Lupin met Nymphadora Tonks when she was just seven years old. Sirius and James teased her about having a crush on their best friend. Fifteen years later, Remus wonders if the shoe is on the other foot...Two-Shot.
1. Prongs Makes A Point

_**Remus**_

I sighed heavily as I leaned back in my chair, fighting my ever-drooping eyelids. It was just so… tiring. This whole war was tiring.

It didn't help that it was nearly the full moon.

"You okay, Remus?" I cracked open one eye to see a curtain of long, red hair and a pair of bright green eyes blinking at me.

"I'm fine, Lily. Just tired."

"Man up, Moony," James's voice drifted to me from the open kitchen door. I could hear Harry fussing as his father attempted to feed him. James could never get him to settle the way that Lily could – for the six-month old, any time with Dad meant playtime, not bedtime. "Lil! He's not taking the bottle!"

I watched as Lily rolled her eyes, shooting me a 'what-is-he-like' glance. "Well, that'll teach you for being such a soft touch."

I snorted. If someone had told me even two years ago that James would ever be described as a soft touch, I would have bust a gut laughing. Yet here we were, barely twenty, and James had gone from crimes and misdemeanours to bottle-feeding and marriage.

I had to say, maturity suited him.

I doubted Padfoot would agree, somehow.

"Here, let me," Lily extended her arms for her son as James entered the room. Harry wriggled in her grip as she tilted him back – he was worse for fighting sleep than I was. Stubbornly trying to remain alert, he turned his cheek away from the bottle his mother had offered him, frowning and pointing imperiously to his father.

"Sorry," James said sheepishly to his wife, rumpling his hair in a nervous habit. He shot me a sly grin, which I returned somewhat half-heartedly.

"Remus, why don't you stay here tonight?" Lily suggested kindly. "You're dead on your feet."

I gave her a wry smile. "No more so than usual."

"Listen to the woman, Moony," James advised sagely. "She's never wrong."

Lily fixed him with an appraising look, amusement and exasperation warring for dominance on her face. Amusement won, and she cracked a wide smile. "Flattery will get you nowhere, Potter," she muttered.

"Not in my experience," he replied, winking.

Just as Harry was starting to drift off to sleep, there was a loud rap on the door. The dozing baby stirred, but didn't wake – he was already too far gone.

"That'll be Padfoot," James declared, as if we'd been expecting anybody else. Bounding to the door like an overexcited puppy, James yanked it open to reveal Sirius, grinning broadly. His beaten up leather jacket and windswept dark hair could mean only one thing – he'd come on his motorbike.

This time, however, he was not alone.

Bouncing slightly on the balls of her feet, and clinging to Sirius's hand as though it was the only thing anchoring her to the ground, was a little girl of around seven or eight. She was exceptionally pretty, with wide, kind brown eyes that glittered with the same mischief that I had seen so often in my fellow Marauders. Her face was pale and heart-shaped, and surrounded by a cascade of curls that were an eye-watering shade of… magenta.

"Sirius! I want to see the baby!" she demanded imperiously, leaning around James and craning her neck to try and catch a glimpse of the sleepy bundle of blankets in Lily's arms.

"Wait a minute, Dora, we aren't even in the house properly," Padfoot chided, but his criticism was entirely weightless.

Ah, so that was who the girl was. Nymphadora Tonks, Sirius's cousin Andromeda's daughter. I vaguely recalled him saying that she was pestering him to come and get a glimpse of Harry.

Without waiting for the invite, Dora rushed past James, and she had made it almost halfway across the room before she stopped dead. Instead of looking at Lily and her son, she swivelled to face me.

"Who're you?" she said with evident interest. I smiled at her commanding tone, and the way she propped her tiny little hands on her hips in a bossy gesture that reminded me forcibly of Molly Prewett, the old Gryffindor prefect.

"I'm Remus," I told her patiently. She tilted her head to one side, studying me for a moment.

"I've heard about you. You're Sirius's friend."

"I know I am."

"Did you know, I'm going to be eight next week?" she informed me brightly, as though this should have some significant meaning to me. I raised my eyebrows.

"Really? That's quite grown up."

"I know! How old are you?"

"Dora! You don't ask people how old they are, it's rude!" Sirius admonished, but the grin was still plastered across his face.

She spared her cousin a disparaging look. "Yeah. But I don't care. 'Sides, I wasn't talking to you, so there!" And she promptly stuck her tongue out at him.

I let out a chuckle. I could certainly see the family resemblance, in personality if nothing else.

"I'm twenty," I responded to her question.

"That's _old_!" she cried.

"Dora!"

"Shush, Sirius!" Tentatively, she took another step towards me, as though she was daring herself to come closer. "Can I sit over here?" She pointed one skinny finger at the empty space on the sofa beside me.

"I thought you wanted to see Harry?" Sirius remarked slyly.

"I changed my mind," she decided.

"Ooh, Dora, do you have a crush on Remus?" Sirius teased lightly. James and Lily laughed at the shocked expression on her face, and the sudden blazing heat coming from her cheeks even made me smile, despite my lack of energy.

"No!" she protested defensively, going redder still.

"You do!" Sirius insisted, enjoying watching her squirm.

"Remus doesn't mind if I sit here!" She glanced back at me, as though suddenly struck by the awful thought that I might mind. "D-do you?"

I shook my head. "Of course not."

Her answering smile was blinding. I had to say, it was adorable. And certainly flattering.

Lily was grinning as she watched our exchange. She caught my eye and mouthed 'Bless her!'. Sirius shook his head almost despairingly, and walked over to Lily with his arms out for his godson. "Give us Prongs Junior, then."

James was watching little Nymphadora looking up at me with a slightly star-struck expression. "Bit of a cradle snatcher, aren't you, Moony?" he joked. I rolled my eyes at him, and turned back to the little girl beside me, who began jabbering away like she'd only just discovered how to talk.

* * *

Grimmauld Place was crowded, as usual. Molly Weasley was busy shelling peas at the sink, and Arthur and Bill appeared to be having a debate in the corner of the room. Fred and George were using their parents' distraction to their advantage, and were muttering conspiratorially by the fire with Dung. Sirius was staring morosely into his bottle of butterbeer, nodding along to whatever Kingsley was telling him without really listening to a word of it. I had seen the signs often enough to be able to tell when he wasn't paying attention.

He was just waiting for Harry to finally show up, which of course, wouldn't be until the last members of the Guard arrived.

I idly wondered who Mad-Eye was bringing. Hestia Jones, I knew, and probably Emmaline. Oh, and his dear protégé. Whoever that was.

There was a sudden explosion of noise from the hallway, and we all jumped in unison.

"FILTH, SCUM, SHAME ON MY HOUSEHOLD, BESMIRCHING THE NOBLE HOUSE OF MY FOREFATHERS WITH MUDBLOODS AND VERMIN AND HALF-BREEDS!"

Mrs Black's portrait was the loudest voice by far, but there was another, unmistakeable shout.

"Merlin's beard, Nymphadora, you didn't even see the umbrella stand?" Mad-Eye growled in frustration.

"Don't call me Nymphadora! I've told you…"

As a group, we all traipsed out into the hallway to welcome our noisy newcomers. Sure enough, I spotted Emmaline and Hestia, as well as Dedalus Diggle and the gruesome profile of Alastor Moody.

But there was someone else. A very pretty witch in her mid-twenties with a shock of violet hair framing a pale, heart shaped face.

"Dora!" Sirius roared, rushing forwards to hug his cousin. I stared, amazed. The one and only time we had met, she had been no taller than my hip. Now, here she stood, grown up and… beautiful. I gulped, suddenly feeling a little nervous.

"Wotcher, Sirius," she smirked. Her dark eyes roamed over our company, before they finally settled on… me. "And it's Tonks."

I suddenly didn't know where to look.

"Hi, Remus," she greeted me warmly. I gave her a weak smile, confused by the sudden pounding of my heart. "Wow, you haven't changed a bit."

"I couldn't say the same to you," I muttered, and she beamed, throwing back her head and laughing enchantingly.

"Well, puberty had to happen eventually," she responded cheerfully. I gave her a surreptitious glance. Yes, it did. And it had certainly been kind to her.

"Let's not stand around gossiping like a bunch of housewives," Moody said gruffly. "Come on, we don't have the time. We've got serious matters to discuss."

"You need to start taking life more seriously, Mad-Eye. You're far too care-free. Anyone would think there wasn't a war brewing," Tonks said conversationally, winking at me as she passed.

I laughed a little breathlessly, and didn't miss the darkly significant look that Sirius threw me. I thought back to the conversation we had had in the Potters' living room nearly fifteen years ago.

Who'd have ever thought James was prophetic? One look at Sirius's expression, and I could tell he was thinking the same thing.

"Hey, Remus," Sirius began in a sing-song voice. "I'm starting to think Prongs had a point."


	2. Why Remus?

_**Tonks**_

"Come on," Mad-Eye growled in an undertone as we filed through the kitchen door. It was pitch black, and my general clumsiness was heightened in the dark. I stumbled over my own feet, and threw out a hand to catch myself. Instead of a smooth wall or countertop, my fingers found something warm. Another hand. Whoever it was gripped me instinctively, anchoring me into place, and I managed to regain my footing.

I straightened up and turned to thank my saviour, to find myself nose to nose with Remus Lupin.

Suddenly, I was acutely aware that his hand was still holding onto mine, and my palm began to tingle. I swallowed around a sudden nervous lump in my throat. I hadn't seen the man in fourteen years, and I still felt like a star-struck seven year old.

Brilliant.

"I… uh… thanks," I muttered, now glad of the darkness – it disguised my blush.

Remus was almost exactly as I remembered him from when I was younger – dark blue eyes that seemed to sparkle with intelligence, light brown hair that was a little greyer than my memory, but the same handsome, youthful face, the same infectious – if rare – smile.

He gave me a fleeting glimpse of a grin and awkwardly relinquished my hand. I still felt the ghost of his touch after he'd let go.

"Try to stay on your feet, Dora," he whispered. I opened my mouth to tell him to call me Tonks, but promptly shut it again. I found, for the first time since I went to Hogwarts, I didn't object to my first name. Not in his voice.

I turned away from him, determined not to behave like a schoolgirl with a crush, and felt my arm brush against cold china. There was a resounding crash, and everyone froze in their places, heads swivelling in my direction.

"Tonks!" Mad-Eye groaned. "Right. Hallway, everyone. Now."

We bustled through, a lot quicker than we had intended, and sandwiched ourselves at the foot of the stairs. I somehow managed to be squashed in beside Remus, and I could feel the hairs on the back of my arms stand to attention as his shoulder brushed mine.

Merlin, I really was pathetic.

A creak of the topmost stair caused us all to look up. There was a skinny figure silhouetted in the glow from the streetlamp outside, and he had his arm extended. A wand protruded from his hand, glinting threateningly at us in the faded amber light.

"Lower your wand, boy, before you take someone's eye out," Mad-Eye growled.

"Professor Moody?" came a hesitant reply. I felt a spark of shock run through me as I realised that this was the same boy, the same baby, that I had begged to hold when I visited his parents with my favourite cousin. It was surreal.

"I don't know so much about "Professor", never got round to much teaching, did I?" Mad-Eye replied gruffly, true to form. "Get down here, we want to see you properly."

Harry's wand lowered an inch, but it was still pointing into our midst. I felt Remus shift slightly at my side, and then his husky tones rang out softly in the hallway.

"It's alright, Harry. We've come to take you away."

"P-Professor Lupin? Is that you?" Harry asked, incredulous. _Professor_ Lupin smiled. I could sense it. One of those rare, genuine smiles that I had come to recognise in the last few days at Grimmauld Place.

I felt a sudden, burning urge to see that smile properly. "Why are we all standing in the dark?" I wondered aloud. "_Lumos_."

I got my first good look at Harry, then, and I swear, I thought I was going to pass out. He was James Potter's doppelganger, save for the bright green eyes that were currently blinking down at us all, shell-shocked.

"Ooh, he looks just like I thought he would," I declared to nobody in particular. I shot the teenager a wide grin. "Wotcher, Harry!" He gave me a nervous half-smile.

"Yeah, I see what you mean, Remus," Kingsley boomed from the back of our little wizard sandwich. "He looks exactly like James."

"Except the eyes – Lily's eyes," Elphias wheezed.

Mad-Eye was, of course, constantly vigilant. "Are you sure it's him, Lupin? It'd be a nice lookout if we brought back some Death Eater impersonating him. We ought to ask him something only the real Potter would know. Unless anyone brought any Veritaserum?"

I caught Remus's eye and rolled mine skywards. He bit back a laugh.

"Harry, what form does your patronus take?" he asked quietly.

"A stag," Harry mumbled.

"That's him, Mad-Eye," Remus assured.

Harry descended the last few steps, tucking his wand into the back pocket of his jeans as he did so. Mad-Eye threw out an arm to halt his passage and glared at him with his mismatched eyes.

"Don't put your wand there, boy! What if it ignited? Better wizards than you have lost buttocks, you know!"

I turned to survey my mentor with amused interest. "Who do you know that's lost a buttock?"

"Never you mind, you just keep your wand out of your back pocket!" Moody grumbled. I grinned at him, affection bubbling in my stomach for the grouchy old man who taught me everything I knew about being an Auror. He was still grumbling as he clanked off towards the kitchen again. "Elementary wand safety, nobody bothers about it anymore…"

I rolled my eyes again. I couldn't help it.

Harry and Remus were shaking hands warmly when I turned back to the rest of our Guard.

"How are you?" Remus was asking.

"F-fine…" He seemed to be wrestling with something he wanted to get off his chest, and I could hardly blame him. Whatever it was, he decided not to voice it. "I'm – you're really lucky the Dursleys are out…"

"Lucky, ha!" I crowed. "It was me who lured them out of the way. Sent a letter by Muggle post telling them they'd been short-listed for the All-England Best Kept Suburban Lawn Competition. They're heading off to the prize-giving right now… or they think they are." I shot Harry a wink – he seemed to be enjoying this particular nugget of information.

"We are leaving, aren't we? Soon?"

"Almost at once, we're just waiting for the all-clear," Remus told him instantly.

"Where are we going, the Burrow?" I could hear the edge of hopefulness in his voice. He surely wouldn't be so excited when he found out where we were actually headed. Of course, by that time, he wouldn't have a choice, because we'd already be there.

"Not the Burrow, no. Too risky. We've set up Headquarters somewhere undetectable." We all began a tight procession to the kitchen in Mad-Eye's wake as Remus continued to explain. "It's taken a while…"

Mad-Eye was drinking from his hip flask at the kitchen table, his magical eye whizzing all over the shop. He was still sulking, I could tell.

"This is Alastor Moody, Harry," Remus introduced.

"Yeah, I know," Harry replied softly.

Remus turned to me with a slight smirk that made my heart hiccough in my chest. It wasn't an unpleasant feeling.

"And this is Nymphadora –"

Mad-Eye looked up from the table in shock when I didn't immediately swat at Remus and start cursing. Panicking at the betrayal of my crush, I said loudly,

"_Don't_ call me Nymphadora, Remus!" I shuddered theatrically to help sell my indignation. "It's Tonks."

Remus grinned. "Nymphadora Tonks, who prefers to be known by her surname only."

"So would you if your fool of a mother called you Nymphadora," I muttered darkly.

The introductions went on, and I could barely concentrate. I was too preoccupied with wondering why on earth my name sounded so horrendous coming out of every mouth but Remus Lupin's.

* * *

The welcome dinner for Harry hadn't gone quite as planned. Kingsley had left just after Sirius and Molly had retreated to their respective rooms in high dudgeon after their little confrontation over Harry's well-being – personally, I was inclined to agree with Sirius, though I'd never say so in front of Molly. It was only Arthur, Remus and I in the kitchen now, and Arthur's head was starting to droop into his goblet of pumpkin juice.

"If you're tired, Arthur, go to bed," I told him gently, prodding him with my index finger. He sat up sharply, grunting. "Wassat?"

"Go to sleep," I half-laughed. "You're exhausted."

"You know, you're right, Tonks. Goodnight, dear. Remus." He nodded at the pair of us and disappeared out the open door. I heard his muffled footsteps retreating until he reached the staircase.

The problematic thing was, this now left me alone with Remus. I hadn't really thought that far ahead when I'd told Arthur to get some sleep, and now I was wishing I could call him back down, just so there would be someone to serve as a buffer.

Remus was staring pensively into the crackling fire, his brow slightly furrowed. He looked an odd combination of wise and lost, of young and weary.

"Remus?" I prompted, when there had been nothing but silence for a few moments.

"Oh? Yes?" He snapped out of his reverie pretty quickly, turning his head to look at me. It seemed to dawn on him after a second or two that we were alone, and I saw the flash of panic in his eyes before he managed to rein it in – or was that my imagination?

"Are you okay?"

"I'm tired. It's been a long day."

"Yeah, I think we're all dead on our feet." He paused, and gave me a fleeting smile. "Except you."

I shrugged. "One of the perks of being twenty-two."

"I dimly recall," he remarked wryly.

"Hey, you aren't that old," I cajoled him, wondering why I felt it so vital to play down the age difference between us. Twelve and a bit years was quite a big gap, but it didn't feel that way.

He laughed, he actually laughed, and I felt a wave of triumph wash over me. "Really? You've changed your tune. According to you, I was ancient at twenty."

I felt my cheeks flush slightly at the memory. "Yeah, but I was seven. Ten was old to me, then."

"You were nearly eight," he reminded me, eyes sparkling with good humour. I smiled.

"Oh, yeah. I forgot about that."

"Sirius said you had a crush on me," Remus remarked, then seemed taken aback by his own words. I felt my blush intensify.

"I did. Most definitely," I responded in a moment of recklessness, and I saw his eyes widen infinitesimally.

"You didn't admit it at the time," he teased.

"Women are like that. But I'm telling you now," I said cheerfully, trying not to hear the truth still in that statement.

"Why?" Remus blurted out. "Why did you like me?"

I tilted my head to one side, considering him. What was it about him that I found attractive, hell, that I _still_ found attractive after all this time?

"You were intriguing. Smart, but not showy, handsome, but not arrogant. And you were mysterious. That's probably the werewolf thing," I replied, not really aware of what I was saying.

"You picked up on that at seven?"

"I'm calling it like I see it now."

There was a very pregnant pause, where neither of us knew how to formulate the next sentence. There was a charge in the air, something somewhere between chemicals and magic. It wasn't a bad feeling, just strange. The feeling built and built as the silence stretched on.

"I… uh… I suppose I'd better turn in," Remus announced when the silence got too much to bear.

"Yeah… um… goodnight," I murmured.

"Goodnight, Dora."

That time, I didn't even try to correct him.


End file.
